The Value of Life
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: As the anniversary of Mary's death approaches, Sherlock is thinking about how he has changed his thoughts on life. When he thinks about his almost fatal choice to take the pill in "A Study in Pink," Moly theorizes something that gives him pause for thought.


**Thanks to Victorianlady79 for beta'ing**

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Sherlock was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed and fingers steepled. The anniversary of Mary's death was approaching and he was thinking about a conversation he'd had with John just after the Culverton Smith case was successfully concluded.

When finally John had said that Mary's death was not his fault he had replied,

"In saving my life, she conferred a value on it. It is a currency I do not know how to spend."

His thoughts drifted back to the case John had labeled "A Study in Pink." He sometimes wondered if he would truly have taken that pill. He had definitely had it in him to flirt with death, so superior in his intellect. Yes, he decided, he probably would have. And the thought worried him.

Molly walked into the room right then. His pregnant wife was freshly showered and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. She smelled of the delightful body wash she always used. By this time he knew both of her favourite body washes very well - jasmine vanilla, and black currant vanilla, both scents obtained by her friend, Kaitlyn for her, when she was in America. At the sight of her, his heart leapt. It still amazed the detective that she had loved him for so long, even calling off her engagement a few months after he returned from exile.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" she inquired, seating herself on his lap, as if it was the only place in the room she could occupy.

He stifled a groan. Molly was significantly heavier at seven months pregnant than she had been pre-pregnancy. Of course, it was worth the extra weight, he thought, putting his arms around her fondly and rubbing her belly. "It has been almost a year since Mary died," he responded. "I was thinking about how much has changed, how I have changed from the person I used to be."

"Well, of course you have, sweetheart. You are nothing like the man I knew when we first met. You were sure of yourself and your intellectual superiority. You have learned humility since then, become such a caring man."

The detective smiled at her. "I can't even imagine how my life would have turned out without you in it."

She smiled back, raising a gentle hand to his face. "So, tell me what else you've been ruminating on."

"I've been thinking about the case John blogged as 'A Study in Pink.' It was the first one we did together."

"I remember reading that on his blog. That was where the taxi driver made people choose a pill and he took the other one. One was poison, the other wasn't. And the cabbie kept surviving."

"That's the one," nodded her husband.

Molly frowned. "I also remember John saying someone killed the taxi driver just when you were about to take one of the pills."

He nodded again solemnly.

"Do you think you really would have done it?" she asked.

"That is what I've been contemplating. Sadly, I've come to the conclusion that I may very well have done so, I was so certain I was smarter than that man."

"Well, thank God someone shot him."

"Can you keep a secret, Molly?"

"Seriously, Sherlock? Didn't I keep the secret of you faking your death for two years?"

"True, but this will blow your mind."

"What do you mean, honey?"

"The person who shot the taxi driver - it was John."

Molly put her hands to her mouth. "Oh, my gosh. That means he undoubtedly saved your life - unless of course you took the good pill."

"Yeah. First John, then Mary."

"Don't forget though, it's a two-way Street, Sherlock. You've saved your friends' lives too - John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. You also saved Mary's in a way, when you shot Magnussen to prevent him from ruining her life."

"I guess..." he said. "I will always feel guilt associated with both Magnussen's and Mary's deaths, though."

Molly kissed him softly. "You should not dwell on that now. Your past is over and done with, and it is the future that matters." Then she suddenly said, "You know - is it possible that both pills were poisoned so no guesswork was involved?"

Sherlock looked at his wife. "Then the cabbie would have died too. That makes no sense."

"I'm just thinking out loud here. Remember in the Princess Bride, Westley challenged Vizzini to a battle of wits? He tells Vizzini about this iocane powder that is poisonous and ostensibly puts it in one cup of wine, then tells Vizzini to choose - just like the cabbie did with you. Of course Vizzini spends ages trying to decide which cup to drink from, and when he drinks, he ends up dead. Then of course we find out that both wines were poisoned but that Westley had built up an immunity to the poison. Do you think that could have been the case with the taxi driver?"

Sherlock stroked his wife's belly absently. "That is a very clever idea, Molly. Of course iocane powder is fictional but..."

He suddenly had a thought. The taxi driver's ultimate victim was supposed to be himself. The man had been working for Moriarty. If he had taken the wrong pills and died, he would not have been able to approach Sherlock. The more Sherlock thought of it, the more it made sense.

"You know, Molly. I think you may be on to something. Those pills from the crime scene disappeared before they could be analyzed for the toxin inside. Due to some bungling, the cabbie was cremated without having a post-mortem performed on him. I didn't think about it at the time..."

"Oh, Sherlock, do you think it was all manipulation by Moriarty? Somehow, some way he and the taxi driver worked together to have the man develop a tolerance for some mysterious poison? That way he could be sure to still get to you?"

"My sweet girl, I really think you could be correct. It is too bad there is no way to check on it now. It will forever remain a theory."

"If that is what happened, there would have been no 'good' pill and you would have died. Thank God, Sherlock, oh, thank God you didn't take it." Molly placed kisses all over his face and he chuckled, then he captured her lips with his in a very satisfying kiss.

"Darling, I do value my life now. All I've been through these past few years, I've been growing, changing. Sherrinford was just the final crack in the lens, to break down my walls, to know my life had value because I was loved by you."

"And by God, too," pointed out his wife.

"Of course, that was also a big step in my transformation. I have to say though, I do think Mary would be happy with the way things have turned out. I am spending my currency wisely, I believe."

"Your currency?"

"I told John after we became friends again, that when Mary died for me, she gave my life a value, but it was a currency I did not know how to spend."

"I see. I am sure she would be pleased with the way you are now too. After all, she was the one who wanted us to be together."

They sat in silence for a time, as Sherlock held his wife. Mary might be gone, but she would always hold a special place in his heart for her ultimate sacrifice, which had enabled him to have this life with his pathologist.

And for a moment he could have sworn he smelled the scent of Claire De La Lune perfume in the air. He shook his head to clear it it and the scent was gone. All he could smell again was the sweet scent of his wife.

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 **Author's Note:** For awhile now, I've been thinking of the parallels between the cabbie scene and The Princess Bride poison scene. Perhaps it is just a flight of fancy, but if you take into account Moriarty's endgame was always to get to Sherlock, perhaps this theory makes sense.

What do you think? Have you seen how Sherlock's perceptions of his life changed as time went by? My head canon is that Mary knew he and Molly belonged together. Your thoughts?


End file.
